Behind the Smoke Screen
by peace-and-war
Summary: It was a release of sorts, the smoke spiralling up, up, up, watching it being dispersed by the ceiling fan. Written for Secret Santa Ficathon over at house cameron on Livejournal.


**Authors Note: This was written as part of a Secret Santa over at house_cameron on Livejournal. **

**For razor840 who wanted:**

**1. Cameron and House smoking pot together****  
****2. Cuddy angry at Cameron for acting flakey****  
****3. Cameron makes anime references and House doesn't get them, but Cuddy does.**

**Three things that ****they didn't want:  
****1. New team****  
****2. Characters professing love for each other explicitly****  
****3. PPTH as a setting**

**Slightly AU- Cameron's insane internal moral compass is not quite where it should be. Set in season 1. Anime references are from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. I'm not an anime watcher/reader, so I did my best.  
**

* * *

It was a release of sorts, the smoke spiralling up, up, up, watching it being dispersed by the ceiling fan. It was not interesting to watch, but she was mesmerised by it. Everything became more interesting, the world became brighter, she was noticing every little colour, every shimmer of light. Not quite the same hit as crystal meth, but it did the job.

The tip of the joint was burning her fingers, she stubbed it out and relaxed back into the bath, watching the smoke spiral around her bathroom. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had been sitting fully clothed in her empty bathtub, but it didn't matter.

She wasn't an addict, she wasn't dependant on pot, but it made her day so much better. She wasn't stupid enough to jeopardise her medical licence, or to jeopardise the lives of her patients, but, sometimes desperate times called for desperate measures.

She wasn't naïve, she knew what doing drugs could do to her, but as she saw it, pot was less harmful, even though that was a completely dangerous assumption . Not quite the same kick as some drugs in her teens, but it did the job.

Simply put, Allison Cameron was as high as a kite, and she loved it every time.

It was calming, and relaxing. Watching the world float by in a misty, smoke covered haze, made her realise that this was what she had been striving for, to just be happy.

It also helped her forget about the terrible day she just had.

Her phone brought her out of her drug induced daydream, the vibration sending chills down her spine, making everything she was feeling intensify. It was House calling, probably wondering why she wasn't sitting in the conference room, throwing out useless ideas that would eventually help House reach his epiphany.

She ignored it, sinking back into the bathtub, trying to forget her day.

* * *

_She stood in Cuddy's office, tuning out Cuddy's angry rant._

"_You were irresponsible! You could have killed that patient!" Cuddy was standing behind her desk, as she usually did when she was chewing out House. Except this time it wasn't House. It was her._

_Cameron looked at Cuddy, eyeing the woman up and down, taking in Cuddy bracing herself with her arms on her desk. "If it wasn't for Vogler being here, this wouldn't have been such a big issue!"_

"_The __warfarin induced skin necrosis on a ten year old girl is a big issue! She had to be drugged so as the sores healed, she wouldn't be in pain." Anyone could see the soft spot Cuddy had when it came to children, no wonder this was being made into an even bigger deal._

"_It wasn't my fault. I gave her heparin, Chase administered the warfarin."_

"_I'm sorry, Cameron, but the only one of you which could have caused the mistake was you."_

"_Fine. It won't happen again." That she was sure of. She didn't want to be the scapegoat, ever, and would make sure it never happened again._

"_No, it won't. I can't throw you off this case because you're the only female on the team, but I can revoke your privileges so all you can do is diagnose and talk to the patient." _

"_You wouldn't." Cameron's jaw dropped. That was worse than being taken off the case, at least if she was off the case she could at least work in the clinic or the ER. Having her privileges revoked until the end of the case meant all she could do was sit around doing nothing._

"_I am. And this isn't the first time I've noticed you slipping up, whatever is causing you to be distracted either needs to be stopped or fixed."_

_Cameron turned to leave Cuddy's office, but stopped and looked back at the older woman._

"_You don't want me here do you? You still see me as a threat."_

_She watched as Cuddy's stare hardened, and her arms folded across her chest._

"_Get out of my office Dr. Cameron, before I decide to that your actions were extremely irresponsible and take your security badge."_

_

* * *

_

She was still sitting in the bathtub when she heard someone knocking at her door.

She just ignored it, whoever it was, she didn't want to talk to them, nor did she care about talking to them. She wanted to sit, get high,

Then the repetitive knocking of what could only be a handle of a wooden cane hitting her front door, started. She opened it and leaned against the doorframe.

"House."

She noticed him trying to work out why she was home on a weekday, obviously Cuddy had not filled him in on her situation.

"Cameron."

He looked at her oddly, wondering why she was at home at 4pm on a weekday.

"Your eyes are glassy and bloodshot."

"So?"

"You're high. At least you were."

"And?"

"Nothing."

"You're shocked. I know you are. You're wearing that look, where a symptom doesn't fall into place. Instead of it being a symptom, it's a characteristic. And you're trying to figure out why."

He looked her over, taking in the rumpled clothes, _her work clothes she was wearing the day before_, her messy hair, and of course, her bloodshot eyes.

She followed his gaze, watching him.

"Honestly, why do you care? It's not like you're not hopped up on drugs every day of your life."

He shrugged, and pushed past her, barging his way into her apartment. Invading her personal space as usual, there was no point protesting.

"Oh, by the way, I know you're privileges were suspended." Cameron flicked her head around to glare at House, as she was closing her front door.

"Figures you'd know that quickly."

He walked into her bathroom, and took in the particularly pungent smell which permeated the room. He noticed the discarded joint in the ashtray on the floor.

He turned to look at her.

"Why do you smoke in here?"

She pointed to the ceiling.

"There's a fan. Disperses the smell more so than cracking open a window would."

He silently sat down on the tiled bathroom floor, cane clattering to the floor, picked up the still smouldering joint, and raised it up to Cameron as a toast.

* * *

"Is this it?"

"Is what it?"

Cameron lifted her head up to look at House. Somehow, they migrated to the living room. In their inebriated state, neither could really remember. She sitting in front of her couch, leaning against it. House was lying down, feet on the armrest.

"This, being reliant on a drug, relying on the high to make it all just fall away." She continued.

All she received in return was a blank stare.

"Why? Why are we reliant on a plant to feel good about ourselves?"

"_You_ might be reliant on it to feel good about yourself, I don't know why, but I'm just in it for the high." He blew smoke out of his mouth, his hand hanging off the side of the couch, and the ash from the end of the joint sprinkling itself on the carpet.

"Oh I forgot. Mr Responsible and his drug addiction." Cameron snorted, grabbing the joint out of House's hand, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke spiralling out of her nostrils, spiralling around her and adding to the smoke haze in the room.

"Some people use drugs to hide away, I use them to function normally. Well as normal as a guy with a hunk of muscle cut out of his thigh can function."

House turned his attention back to the TV, there was some anime program on, he was watching merely for the bright colours, and the almost flashing scenes.

* * *

Cameron's pocket began vibrating, she pulled out her phone; the caller ID was flashing Cuddy.

"Shit." She muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"It's the firebreathing dragon herself."

Cameron chuckled at the description of Cuddy, she could have imagined her in the office as a dragon breathing fire.

"She's probably calling to tell you that the girl is getting better."

She accepted the call, waiting for Cuddy to talk first.

"_Dr Cameron?"_

"Speaking."

"_It's Dr Cuddy, I wanted to let you know that as of now, your medical privileges are reinstated, the girl's symptoms have gotten worse, so it's not __warfarin__ induced skin necrosis."_

"Kill that guy!" House yelled at the tv.

"_Is that House?"_

"Yeah it is," Cameron rolled her eyes, "He's watching Fullmetal Alchemist."

_"I didn't know House was into anime."_

"He's not. I was watching it when he barged into my apartment." That was somewhat true, it was on when he barged into her apartment.

"_He reminds me of a certain character.. But I can't put my finger on it."_

"He's like Edward Elric."

"Who's that supposed to be?" House called, still watching the television. Cameron pointed at her phone with her free hand, trying to indicate that she was still on the phone.

"_I suppose so, but instead of losing his whole leg, he only lost a small part of it."_

"Who?" House was almost glaring at Cameron.

"_I expect to see you back at the hospital tomorrow morning. Good night Dr Cameron."_

"So who were you talking about?"

"Edward Elric? On of the main characters in Fullmetal Alchemist? Lost his leg in the process of trying to save his mother and his brother?"

"And this relates to me how? " House was watching Cameron suspiciously,

"You're usually all about the metaphors. You lost a small part of your leg to save your life, he used his leg to save his brother by tying the soul of his brother to it. It's all about the saving something."

"Huh."

There was a moment of awkward silence. House was processing the what she said, and Cameron was trying to think of something to say next.

"I don't do this all the time you know. Only on and off."

"Sounds like you're trying to rationalise."

"Not rationalising, just explaining." Cameron was biting her lip, lost in thought.

House's pager started going off.

"The hospital?"

"Yeah, the girl is getting worse. I'll see you tomorrow. Who else am I going to make sarcastic underhanded comments at regarding drugs? Chase is too much of a wuss, and Foreman's too easy of a target." House said as he limped over to the front door.

"Sure." Cameron laughed. Of course, that was his backhanded complimentary way of saying the team wasn't complete without her.

"Sleep it off. Someone needs to have a clear head, with ideas I can mock."

"Night House."

As the front door slammed shut, Cameron sat back down on the couch, waiting for the faint roar of the motorcycle to start and take off.

As soon as she couldn't hear it anymore, she threw the joint back in the ashtray, and wondered why House was trying to be nice.

It then hit her. He was always hiding behind some sort of mask. He was trying to stop her from hiding behind her own smoke screen. He was trying to help her.

A faint smile crossed her face as she sat back in front of the television, flicking through the channels, just trying to stop overanalysing House and his actions.

**

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**

**I hope this kick starts my motivation to update all my other fanfiction.**

**Happy Holidays everyone! **


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